


A Matter of Feelings

by allineedisaquill



Series: Better Late Than Never [2]
Category: Ghosts (TV 2019)
Genre: Denial of Feelings, Emotionally Repressed, Feelings, Fluff, Friendship, Introspection, M/M, Pining, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2020-04-11 21:40:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19118230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allineedisaquill/pseuds/allineedisaquill
Summary: “The moment he resigned himself to letting Pat snooze against his side, he knew he was in trouble.”Or: One stubborn Captain continues to have feelings as Pat joins him to watch TV one night.





	A Matter of Feelings

**Author's Note:**

> I seem to have fallen completely in love with these two and so have a few of you too, so here we are. Enjoy.

He hadn’t stopped thinking about their little moment since it occurred, and it was driving the Captain positively _crazy_. He had scarcely been able to concentrate during the last few meetings, especially when Pat had stood up front and enthusiastically talked about some of the activities he used to teach to his Scout boys.

The man had absolutely zero right to be so suddenly captivating. It was maddening.

What frustrated him to no end was that the Captain had never looked twice at Pat before, not in _that_ way, yet one tiny instance with a term of endearment had seemingly unlocked something in him. Of course, he had noted the man’s kind temperament over the years and found his company pleasant, but this was something else entirely.

Over the span of a week, the Captain noticed more and more of this sweet and unassuming man. He noticed the slight bounce to his step when he was feeling particularly chirpy, the higher pitch to his voice when he raised it, the warmth in his Northern accent and the way his whole face lit up when he smiled. The Captain noticed it all and with each small revelation, he found it harder and harder to deal with; it was one thing to take a fancy to random men who passed through the house, but another kettle of fish to find oneself attracted to a man he was stuck with forever.

Was Pat even his type? He thought long and hard about _that_ one. He liked men who were strong, men who could lead, capable and firm. His initial conclusion was that Pat did not fit that criteria at all, but then he looked harder.

Where the Captain had taught his men to fight, Pat had taught his Scouts all the skills he knew how. The Captain had been there during Pat’s final moments; even in the face of death, he had bravely put his boys before himself. That noble act didn’t go unnoticed by the soldier. Pat may have been smaller than him and slightly soft around the edges, but he was strong in his own right and he knew how to lead when it counted. The Captain was nobody to deny the strength and heart that Pat had aplenty.

In the end, types be damned, he also couldn’t deny the inexplicable attraction he felt.

  


Alison was kind enough to let him catch up on the thing about tanks during the night when the household retreated to their respective rooms, but his time left to watch his TV show in peace had become the time he thought about it the most. He sat in the corner of the sofa and tried his best to take in the words the narrator spoke, but all he could think of was blue eyes behind spectacles and a wide smile.

“Oh, hello Captain.”

The Captain almost jumped out of his skin and clutched his swagger stick tight where it sat across his lap. He looked to the doorway just in time to see Pat push his glasses up his nose.

“Ah, Patrick,” he said, voice smooth as ever. “You’re usually in bed.”

It was true. Pat was a creature of habit who believed in reasonable bedtimes. His lip threatened to slip upwards in a smile at that thought but he stubbornly fought it. Just because Pat was soft, didn’t mean he was about to go the same way, _thank you._

Pat shuffled his feet and looked a tad sheepish, fingers pressed together. “Well, I couldn’t settle. Some nights it’s just like that, ever since I died. Do you mind if I join you?”

“Couldn’t do any harm,” the Captain replied, even as he thought of just how terrible an idea it was to invite the man to sit with him in the midst of a bloody schoolboy crush, no less.

Offer accepted, Pat made his way to the sofa where, instead of taking a seat on the expanse of emptiness beside the Captain, he instead had the Captain shuffle up so he could slot himself between the arm and his body. When their legs touched, the Captain warmed throughout, acutely aware of the point of contact.

He stared resolutely at the screen.

“Have I missed much?” Pat asked, hands clasped in his lap. The man could talk for England - often didn’t know when to shut up, actually - but the Captain was too preoccupied for it to irk him and it wasn’t as though he had been paying the show much attention either.

“Nothing life-changing,” the Captain grumbled back.

Pat nodded. “Ah, fair enough then.” He fiddled with his hands in his lap where they had previously been clasped firmly, then took to rubbing his thigh in a small but anxious motion.

The Captain noticed, just as he noticed _everything_ about Pat apparently, and he frowned. He thought to himself that perhaps he’d do well to take a leaf from the other man’s book, to ask how he was and maybe offer up support, but the Captain hadn’t the slightest clue where to start and he was frankly abysmal when it came to emotions. If anyone was worth the effort, though, it was dear Pat, so he sucked up the apprehension and forced it away.

He thought for a moment, eyes squinted at the TV, then turned ever so slightly in his seat to regard the smaller man with a measured look.

“Is there something the matter?” He asked.

Pat did what he always did and met him with a plastered-on smile. “No,” he said. “Why?”

The Captain promptly lifted his swagger stick for the purpose of pointing it at Pat’s hands which still nervously wrung together. He raised an eyebrow as he tapped them once.

“Rather obvious,” he said drily, then placed the stick over his lap again. “You may as well get it off your chest now you’re here, so out with it, man. Something’s clearly eating at you.”

He took a stern tone with Pat, comforting presence not his strong suit by a long shot, but he felt the concern bubble and rise from the pit of his stomach to unfurl in warm tendrils in his chest. He was hard-line and uptight but the Captain wasn’t without compassion; he hated to see a good man in distress, and he’d seen far too many in his lifetime.

Pat looked unsure, and then the facade dropped. His face, usually so bright, faded to a sorrowful expression. His moustache turned down at the edges and his gaze fell to the floor.

“It’s just that I’ve… Well, I’ve been feeling a bit lonely, if I’m honest.” He shrugged at himself and shook his head. “It’s not just because I’m dead, mind. My marriage was on the rocks when I was alive and you know how that ended.” He smiled despite the pain, and that only deepened the line between the Captain’s brows. “Nothing I can do about any of it now, so I try and keep my chin up and that, but it’s not always easy. I’m sure you know that yourself.”

The Captain pursed his lips and nodded. “Yes, I’m afraid I do,” he said, and valiantly ignored how pained he felt to hear such things from a man who deserved nothing but _good._

“I don’t mean to bother you with my silly problems. I’m dead! No point in complaining, and at least I’ve got a houseful of ghosts to keep me company for eternity.” As Pat finished the sentence, his brief fake smile slipped off again at the end. Eternity was a long time, after all.

The Captain let his head tilt to the side. “On the contrary, I could quite easily complain about the company I’ve been given for the rest of my afterlife,” he said, mock-serious.

Pat laughed, suddenly and easily, and the Captain’s concern melted just a bit with a tiny, triumphant smile of his own. It was there and gone again so fast, he doubted Pat noticed.

“Probably got a point there,” Pat agreed around a small grin, pushing his glasses up his face once more. “God, listen to me, moping about. Not my style. Usually a glass half-full kind of guy, me, but everyone has their bad days.”

The Captain shifted back against the sofa cushions, his usual perfect posture swapped for a rare allowance of comfort over appearances. The ghost of his aches and pains eased a little as he got settled, back to giving the television some of his attention.

“Yes, well. When those bad days arrive, it’s good to have a plan of action so you can get yourself sorted,” he told Pat firmly.

Pat looked at him with a frown as he settled back too, and to that, the Captain found himself leaning in as if ready to conspire. If he were looking for it, he would have noticed Pat’s eyes widen and his breath stop short, but the Captain went on obliviously.

“My secret is the tanks. Or anything about super weapons,” he said, all hushed tones.

The younger man blinked. “Funny way to cheer yourself up, but whatever floats your boat.”

The Captain raised an eyebrow. “Sometimes it’s less about the subject matter and more about an excuse to be rid of that lot for a while,” he said, absently pointing to the door with his stick as he continued to watch his programme. “Though the tanks are an added bonus.”

“I understand. Don’t get me wrong - I’m quite fond of them, but we all need a break from each other now and then, and that’s okay,” Pat said, as if trying to convince himself more than the Captain who simply hummed in agreement.

“Well - and this is strictly between you and I - Alison lets me have the television every Thursday night from twenty-one hundred hours, and we have a N.O.G.A agreement. That’s ‘no other ghosts allowed’ so, you know, if you ever need a moment of peace.”

The Captain didn’t look but he felt Pat’s eyes on him as he registered the quiet offer and when the other man spoke, he heard the smile in his voice. He tried in vain to pretend the subtle flutter in his stomach was excitement over the action on-screen and nothing else.

“Yes,” Pat said, small but grateful and very tired. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.”

“It’s quite alright,” he assured quietly.

They fell into companionable silence after that, a new understanding between them, and the Captain tried his best to push away the worry that needled its way into his brain. It was a bad enough idea letting Pat stay in the first place, but had he really just invited him to do this more often? He hadn’t a clue what he’d been thinking and his brain clearly needed to be kicked into touch, but he simply hadn’t wanted Pat to feel _lonely_. Damn his feelings to hell; if this kept up, he would be as soft as the rest of them before long.

The Captain would have found it quite easy to slip further into his scolding self-reprimands were it not for the small fact that Pat had promptly fallen asleep against his shoulder. He looked down to see combed brown hair and a peaceful expression, kissed by the golden tones of the low lamplight and far lovelier than the look of upset he had sported earlier. The Captain decided there and then that Pat ought always to have such a look on his face as it suited him infinitely more than pain did.

There was still a good twenty minutes left of his show, and the Captain reasoned that he may as well wait until it was over before he disturbed the poor man.

The moment he resigned himself to letting Pat snooze against his side, he knew he was in trouble. Once upon a time he would have shrugged Pat off with no issue and sternly told him where to go. He hadn’t the foggiest when it came to just how well Pat had managed to worm his way into his affections, but he seemed to have done very little at all. He was the same old Pat he’d always been, only the Captain now noticed every minor detail. He feared prodding that particular thought lest he discover that his feelings had been there for far longer than he realised, because the last thing he needed was a _romantic epiphany._

It would just have to be his own sorry secret, one he would keep until the feelings eventually fizzled themselves out. He wouldn’t pointlessly ruin a perfectly agreeable friendship because of them and for all he knew, his little crush would have faded in, oh, say twenty years or so. He had outlived much worse, he mused, than some ridiculous lovey-dovey notions rearing their unwanted heads.

The Captain sighed to himself which caused Pat to make a soft noise in his sleep. At that, the Captain swore he could feel a piece of his dignity tear itself away at the reaction it caused deep in his chest, completely unwarranted and absurd.

“Pull yourself together, man,” he whispered to himself, but his mind and body, the damned things, steadfastly denied his request.

“Hmm?” Pat’s sleepy voice drifted up from his shoulder.

When Pat brought himself up to a sitting position, the Captain felt the absence of him. Had he been living, the other man’s touch would have surely been nothing more than a cold spot, but Pat was just as warm as anyone else he had ever felt and he missed how dangerously good it felt to have him pressed to his side, fitted there so casually like he was _meant_ to be.

“Sorry, Cap. Didn’t mean to fall asleep,” and Pat looked at him with a kind smile and drowsy eyes with no idea just what that three-letter word did to him. No idea what _he_ did to him at all. The Captain felt the air knocked out of his lungs as his brain floundered to respond, but when none came, the younger man patted his arm. “Better get myself off to bed, I think.”

The Captain watched him get up and cross the room to the door before he managed to speak. “Goodnight, then,” was all he said, and Pat had the good grace not to mention if he noticed the way his voice was ever-so-slightly strained.

“Nighty night,” Pat said, because of _course_ he did, and then, just like that, he was gone.

The television continued to play to itself as the Captain thought of just how doomed he was.

**Author's Note:**

> If you're interested, I originally [drew the moment](https://bbcghosts.tumblr.com/post/185384364417/pat-stays-up-to-watch-the-thing-about-tanks-and) between Pat and the Captain when he falls asleep. That's what sparked this second instalment, and also inspired [this work by trans_dan](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19104136). 
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are hugely appreciated, and you can say hi here: bbcghosts.tumblr.com!


End file.
